Bear
The woods
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I should note, to begin with, that this is not my mystery: the CMH Gourmand pointed it out to me and posted it on his blog, and it is he who is offering the two-taco reward to whoever offers the solution.
I'm just itching to know what the answer is.
Anyone know what the back story is on this weird satellite photo?
Read the full story, and challenge, here on CMH Gourmand.
Rockmastermike
The Bacon District
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Well this place was owned by capital motel inc from '65 to '75 and then T&H Investments from '75 to 2003, and is now owned by "ROB RE CORP", none of these suggests a trout hatchery or anything like that..
That aerial photograph is from a set for all of Franklin County that was flown in 2004. I'll get back to you with more info...
The lettering is fresher than the roof itself. I doubt it has been there long as of 2004.
The property has been used most recently as "Fat Jack's Rock House and Beach House", before that "Wave Teen Club", and now "el Volcan".
Given the obvious, but tasteless, double-entendre I suspect it was those darned kids from "Wave Teen Club" what did the painting.
Kids nowadays... sheeez
hungrywoolf
Victorian Village
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Forget about eating trout -- go to the scene of the crime for delicious al pastor tacos and gringas. They are really really good.
http://tacotruckscolumbus.com/2009/05/13/los-guachos/
worth a trip out to sullivant.
Rockmastermike
The Bacon District
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The sign does not appear on the building in 1994 aerial photos. The next I can find is 2002, when it appears that the roof has been patched, and the sign has been painted with the same white patching material.
Looks like the work of sentient grouper roofers on reefers sometime between 1994 and 2002. They were likely either hopped up on goofballs or gooned on the juice.
Rockmastermike
The Bacon District
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drew
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Rockmastermike wrote >>
Bear wrote >>
Back when it was owned by... T&H Investments??yeah, but who knows who they were leasing it to. The only way to garner that would be to visit the library and look it up in the city directory/phonebook for that year.
You're smart to pursue this so aggressively - they are some gooood tacos.
Rockmastermike
The Bacon District
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maybe it has to do with the motor vehicle accident that happened there July 21, 2002...
This report is complied by FirePage Ohio® Dispatcher Scott Berringer (703@firepageohio.com)
- 0235
Columbus: MVA/PIN 461 Commerce Square Ct. Cos: Eng 12, Med 195 (Franklin Twp), 12, 17, Res17cuE, Res2cuE, EMS 15, BN 5. Heavy entrapment. Level 1 Trauma. FPO/D260 ©
- 0244
Columbus: MVA/PIN 461 Commerce Square Ct. BN 5 requesting MedFlight. Victim still pinned. Both rescues working. FPO/D260 ©
- 0314
Columbus: MVA/PIN 461 Commerce Square Ct. Extrication complete. MedFlight # 1 to Grant with 30s male, multi-systems trauma. Sullivant Ave closed. FPO/D260 ©
CMH Gourmand
(King of) the (Clinton)ville
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Rockmaster Mike is the WINNER!!! Two al Pastor Tacos.
The next prize is three al pastor tacos for the best Tall Tale about the Eat Trout orgins.
blammo
in the shadow of the wonder of bread
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Ha! that place used to be called "Rainbows" & was a big teen club in the 80's…then it was called "Coconut Beach Club" in the late 80's-early 90's. I got kicked out of there for fighting, which is pretty freaking ridiculous if you know me.
Of course, the Coconut Beach Club was backed by silent partner (and Ohioan) Roger Troutman, best known as a hip-hop pioneer from his work in Zapp, including his revolutionary work with the talkbox, a sound now popularized as similar to "auto-tune". Well, that fateful night in '89, I rolled into the Coconut Beach Club, hot on the trail of my sort-of girlfriend who seemed to be playing hard to get by getting into a car with some other guy and going out with him. (I was later to find out that this in fact was her boyfriend, and I was "the other guy" but you gotta think about how it seemed to me, especially being 19 and drunk).
I screeched into the parking lot, and ran into the club. Now, I happened to be wearing a purple tank-top (otherwise known as the "wife beater") because this girl A: told me her favorite color was purple and B: said she thought tank tops were hot. I was also sporting a wicked mullet, just to complete the picture. I guess it really completes the picture to just go ahead and say that at this point in my life, I would do absolutely anything if a girl I liked suggested it.
Anyway, I blasted into the club and immediately got in the face of this strange "dude" that was all over my girl. What bullshit! She seemed oddly mortified as if she'd been "caught" doing something wrong, which actually took me a couple years to piece together. Yes, at that time, my brain activity was centered about 2.5 feet lower than it is now, and I was incapable of rational thought. All I could see was this strange guy interfering with me & the love of my life & I pushed him to the floor as hard as I could. The bouncers circled in, and grabbed me, while the guy got up & got a quick punch to my gut before they could stop him…or maybe they just thought I deserved it, I don't know.
So I'm resisting and pushing as much as a 19 year-old 140 pound guy can do, when out from the back room comes none other than Roger fucking Troutman! He saunters up to me, looks me over and cooly says "Boy, I'm not gonna kick you out of here for fighting…I'm kicking you out for making my club look so damn bad with that white trash getup! You supposed to be Prince's mechanic or something?" He turned around and started to walk away…then spun around and kicked me HARD in the nuts! I doubled over and almost puked. Of course, the downside of thinking with your dick, is when you get kicked there, all brain waves cease.
They dragged me out & threw me into the parking lot. I puked next to my car & laid there in a pool of my own vomit for 20 minutes. The only thing I remember of the rest of the evening was my girl coming outside and mouthing "call me"…and me dragging myself into the car & limping home. The evening was a disaster…kicked in the nuts, punched in the gut…but most importantly, my girlfriends choice of clothing (meaning mine, of course) was insulted. This was unacceptable…Roger Troutman would pay!
I've never been a man of many skills, but I have to say that if I were to develop a present ability of mine into a superpower, it would be my ability to hold a grudge. If I am wronged, I may forgive…but trust me, I will never forget an insult, no matter how slight. Skip ahead to the early 90's. Roger Troutman, now retired from music (and club ownership) is residing in Dayton Ohio, and running for City Councilman. The idea that the man who so insulted me in front of my girlfriend (and her uh…boyfriend) is running for public office re-ignites my fires of irrational rage and vengeance. I have no political clout & no advertising budget. But I am in college & working part-time as a painter. And what I DO have is access to a large quantity of paint, ladders, and a crew that will do virtually anything for a few lines of coke. We decide (in a haze of the aforementioned coke, dampened with a sizeable quantity of tequila) that the best way to defeat him is with an aerial assault combined with my graphic art skills.
Late one Monday night, we descended on the Sullivant Avenue address, all of us coked, stoned, drunk and any other "ed" we could get our hands on, ready to unleash "The Plan". We scaled the walls, climbed up to the roof, and amazingly, pulled off exactly what we intended to do…and I believe we only lost one man in the process. "Delbert" (and that's his real name, I couldn't make that up) stepped off the roof thinking he was stepping into a swimming pool. Let me just say that Roger Troutman was no Rick James, and in fact I can affirm that his statement that "Cocaine is one hell of a drug". We pulled it off though, and by the time the sun rose, the roof now looked like this:
Of course, Roger was no longer associated with this nightclub…and with Columbus for that matter! This was irrelevant to me, as my thirst for revenge was anything but rational. At this point, very few of my thoughts were rational, but I didn't care, I finally stuck it to the guy who humiliated me in front of the mother of what was now someone else's children.
The election came & went, and I felt a smug sense of accomplishment when Roger was thoroughly trounced in the election. I was certain that I had swayed the all-important "out of town private aircraft owners easily susceptible to typographical suggestion" vote, which no doubt tipped the election against Mr. Troutman.
My glee faded over the years and extinguished altogether with a tragic convergence of events in 1999. Roger was found gunned down by his own brother in a Dayton recording studio. This horrific event not only ended the career of one of the pioneers of funk, but also sparked a personal revelation that not only was the girl I thought was my girlfriend in fact now married and had children with someone else and that I was never really a part of that relationship but merely a creepy classmate who she was once nice too & I couldn't let it go, but also that purple tank-tops were a horrible convergence of stylistic choices, even for the time! And did I mention that I was also wearing turquoise jams???? I should have kicked MYSELF in the nuts! I did Roger Troutman a huge disservice and I had to undo it. I set out to correct my wrongs. Well, at least the whole "painting his roof" part; there was nothing I could do about my years of apparent stalking, assault, and that god-awful tank top/shorts combo.
I grabbed a gallon of paint, a ladder, and a roller, and set out to re-paint the roof. Well once I got up there, it turned out the roof was in pretty bad shape, and the paint didn't cover as well as I thought it would. So I could only partially cover my graffiti. At that moment, I had a brainstorm. (and given that I had long given up using cocaine, this one actually made sense). Could I possibly transform such a negative message into something positive? Instead of imploring people to vanquish a person's aspirations…could I instead convince them to take a positive stance on something? In retrospect, I could have come up with something much better, but hell, it was 2 am, I was half drunk, and I only had 1 fucking gallon of paint. So the best I could come up with was "EAT TROUT". The trout of the world may not be too thrilled with the result, but at least my aerial campaign to tarnish the legacy of funkmaster Roger Troutman had finally come to an end.
So yeah, that's the story! Kind of a weird coincidence that would come up on this board after all these years.
Core_Models
Columbus
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having been to the Coconut Beach Club, I have to wonder how much of that was inspired by real events :D
Either way, tacos for blammo, no doubt!
blammo
in the shadow of the wonder of bread
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Core_Models wrote >>
having been to the Coconut Beach Club, I have to wonder how much of that was inspired by real events :D
True Fact: The CBC kept turquoise-colored collared shirts on hand for use by those dirtbags who demanded entrance but failed to meet the dress code. These shirts, combined with a pair of turquoise shorts (of a substantially different shade of turquoise than the shirts) made for a stunning improvised ensemble…especially when draped over a purple tank top. So I did augment the story a bit, they didn't kick people out for dress code violations, they just made them wear a stinky house shirt. Ugh, I can still feel that crappy shirt on my skin.
Rockmastermike
The Bacon District
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*gleeep*
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